


Useless Movement

by RelarOfFire



Category: Kingkiller Chronicles - Patrick Rothfuss
Genre: Gen, Just a starter bit, a re-write of something I have already, short writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 04:47:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9966182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelarOfFire/pseuds/RelarOfFire
Summary: This is just something to have posted up on here. It's a piece I already have, just reworked and better worded than the previous. It's just a short thing, but I will try and write longer pieces in the future.





	

The innkeeper for the Waystone Inn sat at the bar quietly, truly a rare sight to behold. Considering the man always seemed to be standing behind the bar or cleaning the inn, whether someone was taking residence or not, seeing the man sit and do nothing would have been almost jarring to someone witnessing such action. But, of course, there were no eyes to witness the man sitting quietly. Not today, or yesterday, or even the day before that. There was only so much cleaning one could do without any people traffic to disrupt the polished bar or swept floors. People had been more busy than usual, or perhaps more unwilling to take a stroll to the Inn even for a drink due to the harsh, cold weather outside. 

The inn had been cleaned from head to toe: baked goods already enough in supply from the day before, left over apples that were no good for making cider already cooked into pies or tossed out into the garden, bottles behind the bar had been rearranged and then rearranged once more from color to height, tables cleaned and chairs as well, fireplace no longer filled with ashes or spilling forth to the floor, and all the beds in the inn had new linens on them. Everything the red headed man could do, had been done. There wasn't a spot to clean, a thing to wash, or even a door to fix. Nothing was out of place, and nothing was unclean. While this would have been rather nice to achieve normally, it currently left him rendered stuck and bored. Just sitting and thinking perhaps far too much for someone who claimed to not think much at all.

He gave a heavy sigh, leaning his back against the polished wood of the bar and closing his mossy green eyes for just a moment. Everything was in order, but he felt no more accomplished than when he had tried to sleep the night before. No more accomplished than when he had woken up in the early morning to find something to do. No more accomplished than he did a few days ago upon actually completing the cleaning and cleansing of the Inn's interior. His boredom lead to thought, which lead to over thinking, inevitably always leading to emptiness or nothing at all. No pride or joy for even the smallest achievements; nothing. If there was a feeling, it was rarely anything good when he was left to his own thoughts and the quiet folds of the world around.

Opening his eyes once more, the red headed man looked towards the sword he had mounted on the wall a few days prior. Ah, that old thing... It was a good decoration, but that was about all it was good for now a days. The blade would never be put to use again, hopefully in his mind. The sword was dull and seemed rather lame, really. Nothing special or overly eccentric about the piece to pull attention to it. Again, it was just for looks now. What it had been used for and why was a story that wasn't to be shared with anyone, since he had no wanting of sharing a story that was considered tales to many people. Besides, it wasn't who he was now, so sharing such information would be unworthy of his time.

Kote placed his feet on the floor and tucked the bar stool in under the bar lip, mindlessly patting his hands against his pants as if to clean himself of dust. He had decided to entertain and busy himself with rearranging the chairs in the room, for the second time that day. He needed something to keep himself occupied with nothing happening in the inn. Everything was silent and still, making a usually docile and calm man more anxious and unsure. The reason was not always clear, but the feeling gripped his gut and heart none the less. There were times for silence, and there were spaces it was not welcome. An Inn was one of the places, in his mind, that silence was not too welcome. Kote felt he needed to rid of the silence in some, or any manner, dragging the chairs along the floor and shifting the tables slightly to allow sound to tear the silence.

Of course, the chairs were organized in a different manner in no time at all, leaving Kote to stand in the silence once more. There would have been something if there was a reason to cook, or someone had walked in, or perhaps if Bast were even inside. But, none of those things were around to aid him in the silence. Lunch had just passed, no one was willing to visit due to the poor weather, and Bast had seemingly disappeared for a day or so without a word or note to his where-abouts. All rather typical for the time of day or actions of others; still didn't help him feel much better.

He deeply wished at least someone would walk in and give the place some sound... Anything. Anything more than a suffocating silence and his terrible mind to smother him into feelings and remembrances he had tried to forget all together. Of course, with his life and luck, no such solace would come to him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can follow my blog on tumblr: kote-the-inn-keeper if you want more Kingkiller content on a semi-regular biases!


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